


Haus Party

by Temaris



Series: Haus and Home [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Anal Sex, Daisy Chaining, Dom/sub Undertones, Group Sex, Haus party, M/M, NSFW, Oral Sex, Orgy, PWP, Semi-Public Sex, Very little physical zimbits, Voyeurism, like at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7113091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Temaris/pseuds/Temaris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's cold, and snowing and the power's out. The boys keep themselves warm.</p><p>:)</p><p>Look. Did you ever have a moment when a phrase came to you out of nowhere, and a second later, while you wondered what kind of fic it would be and then you just KNEW. in a split second. All other fic flying out of your head because this, this is what you had to write. Now.</p><p>Haus Pet.</p><p>Haus Party.</p><p>Haus Training.</p><p>Haus Warming.</p><p><em>I could go on</em> </p><p>My point is, this was clearly the universe saying, I know, I know, Zimbits is awesome But! For your consideration: Haus porn! (I think the universe was making some very inappropriate noises at this point).  </p><p>Anyway. Who am I to ignore the Universe when it has a great need?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haus Party

It's deep in the evening. Jack's been on his rounds to check on the team after the heavy snows, and Bitty is bundled up in as many blankets as he could acquire. He's mostly asleep in his cosy corner of the couch and just thinking about bed when Holster says something he doesn't quite follow.

He opens his eyes slowly, and blinks. Holster's sprawled out on Ransom's lap in an armchair too small to realistically hold them both. And Ransom seems to be biting at Holster's neck, which is a little weird. Then both of them shift, Ransom shoving up and Holster whines deep in his throat. He kicks and his boxers emerge from under the blanket that they've got draped over the two of them, and Bitty blinks, puzzled. Shitty's usually the one getting naked. Holster makes a odd little series of noises, more like sex noises than snores, a kind of 'ah ah ah', and Ransom grins into his neck. 

"You like that, huh?" he mumbles. 

The room is quiet, and Holster's shaky "S'good," carries perfectly well. Bitty-- isn't thinking about the way that the noises sound, or the way that his belly is tightening and suppresses the urge to move his own hips in sympathy. They can't possibly be doing what he thinks --

Shitty emerges, pouting, from his nest of blankets at Jack's feet. "You playing without me?" he asks. "No fair. Jack, *I* wanna get fucked too." Jack tousles Shitty's hair. 

"You know where the dicks are, Shitty," he says mildly, and Bitty is suddenly wide awake. Shitty grumbles, then crawls across the floor, bareass naked, and slumps into Holster's lap. He drags the blanket out from between them, and Bitty swallows. They *are* fucking. Bitty can't think, can't move, can't *breathe*. Probably because all his available blood has just rushed south to join the party. Holster's bare legs are splayed open over Ransom's, still in his jeans, but the rolling of their hips and the electrified look on Holster's face suggests that this isn't really holding them back.

Holster leans forwards a little, dragging a deep moan out of Ransom, and shoves a hand deep in Shitty's hair, tugs him around so he's face down in Holster's lap.

"Go on, then," Shitty grumbles, as though Holster's wasting good time. Bitty's eyes widen as Holster grips Shitty's chin and lifts his face up.

"Do I have to do everything?" Shitty shoves his face into Holster's crotch, and Bitty is just staring, what on earth -- Shitty rocks his head forwards and then back and. This is really happening.

Bitty can't move, just stares, peeking over the edge of the blankets piled on top of him, and horribly conscious that he's probably about 30 seconds from a uncomfortable public boner. He swallows. Which is apparently nothing to Holster's uncomfortably red and very public boner that Shitty is nuzzling at, sniffing deep drags as though Holster's dick is the best thing he's ever smelled.

He wonders just how high they all are that this seems just -- nice. Sweet even. There's only a faint ring of green left in Shitty's eyes; his pupils are huge, but Bitty's not convinced that's just the weed at this point, not with the way his hips are starting to roll against Holster's leg.

Then Holster smiles lazily, tugging his fingers through Shitty's hair, and says, "Open wide."

Shitty looks up at Holster. His mouth drops open and Holster presses the tip of his cock against Shitty's lips. 

"There you go," he says. Shitty licks his lips, the tip of his tongue brushes over the slit of Holster's dick and Holster groans.

"That's it, that's good," he whispers. "A little more. Please?" He presses his hips forwards slowly and Bitty watches, fascinated, as Shitty takes Holster's full length deep into his throat, swallowing repeatedly, and squeezing little whimpers out of Holster with each one. Shitty's neck distends thickly, Holster's cock shockingly prominent in his corded throat. Holster groans, and wraps both hands around the back of Shitty's head, holds him in place for a long moment.

Bitty can't imagine how Shitty is breathing. Feels like he hasn't breathed himself in minutes. 

"You going to fuck him or what," Jack asks casually. Bitty snaps his head around to look (he tries to snap his head around, but he's not capable of moving fast right now, and it's probably just as well, because he's really not prepared for what he sees). Jack's sprawled in one corner of the couch. His arm rocks back and forth lazily and Bitty doesn't think about it, absently tracks down and realises that Jack's opened his pants, is pulling on his own thick red dick with long easy strokes. He jerks his eyes back up, scarlet rushing to his face. He doesn't know if it's shame or arousal (both. It's both) and Jack grins at him. "Well?" he asks, and Bitty gapes at him, taking in the faint, wicked smile, and the heavy lidded eyes.

"Fuck Shitty?" he asks, "Me?" and Jack nods. He reaches across to Bitty and with one swift jerk tugs the concealing blankets off him, and smirks at what he finds. Bitty pulls his legs up defensively, and Jack gently presses one broad hand on his knee, until Bitty is splayed out and defenseless. He bites his lip nervously, but -- he really doesn't have anything to be ashamed about, a distant part of his brain points out, and even though he's having trouble processing, he doesn't move his hand from where he's stroking himself through his pants. His eyes slide over to Shitty who is entirely engrossed in sucking Holster down, whose round ass is naked as usual despite the cold.

"He likes it," Jack says, as though they're talking about pie preferences, not fucking a team mate up the ass. "Don't you?" Shitty, unsurprisingly, doesn't answer. His mouth is a little busy, judging by the way his cheeks are hollowed out and his throat filled. "He'll take as many dicks as we'll give him. It's actually kind of hard to stop him."

"You -- you ain't gonna?" He looks nervously between them. This -- this kind of explains more than it doesn't but--

"Maybe later." His eyes slide over Bitty's body. "Maybe not. Depends how good the pre-show is."

"Oho. Mr Zimmermann likes to watch, eh?" he chirps back, and is delighted as the light flush on Jack's raw cheekbones darkens and spreads till even the tips of his ears are blushing.

"Yeah," he says, so low it's more a growl than a word. "That a problem?" Bitty's dick twitches hard in his pants. This is--

"I'm not fucking anyone unless they tell me they're okay with it." he says, firmly, and Jack nods.

"Bien. Holster?" His accent is thickening, and he's losing the 'h's and somehow that is making the whole thing even hotter. Holster blinks at Jack. "Bitty wants to get Shitty's consent to fuck him."

"Good man," Holster cheers, his grin huge, and he pulls himself slowly out, until just the tip is in Shitty's mouth. Shitty is scrambling for more, eagerly sucking and licking and trying to shove his face down and Holster holds him back.

"Easy," he says, "Shits? Shits! Pay attention. Bitty wants your ass. You okay with that?" Shitty jerks his head up, losing contact with Holster's dick which slides down his chin and neck, leaving slippery trails of saliva and come over his skin. He looks first at Jack, who nods, and then at Bitty.

Bitty flattens his hands on his pants, scrubbing them nervously. "Jack said--"

Shitty swallows. Clears his throat. "Whatever you want, Bits. As much as you want. As often as you want. 'Salways gonna be yes."

"Good boy," Holster approves, and tilts Shitty's face back, pushing his cock back in full length.

Bitty slides off the sofa, with more eagerness than grace, and Jack chuckles. "No rush," he says, easy and mellow. He settles behind Shitty, and groans under his breath, doesn't even know what he wants to do first.

He's never let himself look before. Showers and locker rooms are an endless temptation and he schools himself rigorously. He never looks. Even when Shitty walks around naked, dick swinging, he'd carefully not looked.

But now he can look his fill.

"Is this why he's never got any clothes on?" he wonders, and Jack sniggers.

"No. It helps though. Means we just have to make sure he stays prepped for us."

BItty's eyes widen. He parts Shitty's cheeks, and sure enough, the little hole, all wrinkled and looking impossibly tiny, is already glistening. He slips a careful finger in, and closes his eyes as it meets no resistance at all, just sinks into slippery, smooth heat. It flexes around him, and he desperately wants in, to feel that on his dick.

He's scarcely breathing, unable to believe that he's really here; really doing this.

"Give him another," Jack says, his voice rough. "Quickly." He's breathing as hard as Bitty is, and he meets Jack's eyes deliberately, pulls out and goes back with two fingers. Holds Jack's eyes.

It's a harder fit at three, but by no means impossible.

"Show me your cock, Bits," Jack says. His hand is still moving at the same pace, but the strain on his face makes his eyes intense. Bitty swallows. If he'd thought this through he'd've taken his pants off before lubing Shitty's ass, because now he's going to have to put his filthy hands on his clothes, and they are never going to be the same again. He hesitates, then wipes his hands slow and hard on Shitty's back. Shitty moans.

"He likes all of it," Bitty says. It's a revelation. "He wants this."

"Told you," Holster says, and groans. "Damn he's good at that," he whimpers, and Jack laughs.

"All the practice he's had, he's a fucking pro."

Shitty pulls back, waving a hand at Jack.

"Party foul! No trashing sex work--"

"I wasn't, I was saying you'd practiced enough to go professional." 

Shitty blinks at him, cat like. "Oh. Okay. Fair." And sinks back down onto Holster, who shudders.

Bitty shoves his pants off, kneels in close. Almost misses the tiny sound from Jack's corner of the sofa, but doesn't. Catches it. Looks up. Jack's pupils are blown wide, the blue almost gone completely. His eyes are locked on Bitty's cock.

"Like what you see?" he says. He run his hands slowly down the length of his dick. And smirks. 

"Damn, Bits," Holster says appreciatively, and over his shoulder Ransom grins.

"Hey Shits, you're in for one hell of a ride. Turns out our lil Bitty's a shower AND a grower." Shitty tries to pull his head back, and Holster doesn't allow it. 

"You'll know soon enough." He smirks at Bitty. "Shove it in. He'll love it even better like that."

Bitty hesitates. "You sure?" He looks at the back of Shitty's head. He's got no way right now to stop anyone even if he wanted to. Then Shitty taps Holster's thigh and Holster pulls all the way out.

"You okay, bro?" he asks, but Shitty's turning around. 

He looks wrecked. Lips swollen, hair everywhere, saliva and jizz dripping down his chin. "Go for it." He sweeps a look down Bitty and his eyes widen.

"You sure?" Bitty asks cautiously.

"Oh yeah. Now hurry up and shove it in before I get bored--" The last word squeals up into a yelp as Bitty takes him at his word, grips his hips with both hands, and *shoves*.

Holster leans back into Ransom for a long moment, eyes closed, luxuriating in the long thrusts into his own ass. He sighs, then tugs on Shitty's hair. "Come on, suck my dick, Slutty."

Shitty makes a muffled noise and Holster rolls his eyes. "You love it. You know you love it. It's not a pejorative if you use it." He yelps, "Teeth! Careful! Fine. Sorry, Shits, only you are allowed to call yourself a slut."

Shitty's cheeks hollow out and he sinks right down onto Holster's dick. Holster's eyes roll back in his head, and his hips jerk rapidly. He's crying out and Bitty has to think very hard about calculus to not come too as Shitty's ass clenches hard around him over and over. 

He pulls back, slow and easy, and misses the tight heat of Shitty's ass before he's even half out. Shoves back in, hard, jolting Shitty forward into Holster, and Holster deeper onto Ransom, and all three of them groan, orgasm or no orgasm. No lie, he's pretty proud of himself.

He picks up the pace, and it's all he can do to keep himself from coming when he glances over and realises that Jack's matching his strokes pace for pace, lifting his hips in tandem with Bitty's. 

"You're really good at that," Jack says. "God, the *size* of you--"

Bitty swallows. "You want the next ride?" he manages. He's surprised that he sounds more inquisitive than desperate or anxious. Jack's whole face lifts in a slow smile that has no business being as hot as it is.

"You think you can?"

Bitty can't help smiling back, a little wicked and full of the heat in his belly. "I'd be up for that, darlin'." He smirks a little. "Pun intended."

Jack groans, and his hips flex up, once, twice, and he's coming, and it doesn't matter at all that Bitty's balls deep in Shitty, he comes with Jack. He pulls out carefully, and wipes himself off with a handful of tissues that Jack passes him. He's still breathing hard, and Shitty whimpers as he slumps onto the floor.

"You okay?" Jack asks, and Shitty waves a hand in something that apparently reassures Jack. "Let me know if that changes," he says, and then looks back at Bitty, who's still kneeling breathlessly on the floor behind Shitty. He holds out a hand. "Breather? And then, round two?"

Bitty grabs his hand and is pulled up into Jack's lap. "Sounds good."


End file.
